


Endure 'til Heaven

by badgerpride89



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Unbetaed and mild swears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 06:47:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7629121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badgerpride89/pseuds/badgerpride89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hugs Jim tight that day. It's pretty much all he remembers about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Endure 'til Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> Old, old story from LJ. Thought it was time to migrate it.

  
  
Evil times are coming. Leonard McCoy just knows it. It's a pattern with his life. Just when he gets comfortable or happy or god forbid both, something always drags him back into the abyss. That's his lot and he's come to accept it. Took him damn near seventy years to do it but he did. Does. There's a gnawing in the pit of his stomach that has nothing to do with the weakness the klingon prison inflicted upon him when Jim decides to run across the galaxy (no, Bones, just the solar system) and then decides to go alone when Spock refuses to leave Leonard's side. As touching as the gesture is, it takes all of Leonard's strength not to yell at the damn vulcan, to force him to go with Jim. Yes, Jim's morbid revelation those years ago beside a quiet campfire haunts him. He felt it back then, feels it now, the truth of that statement, deep in his bones like a primal instinct. Knows what Jim wasn't saying, could hardly ever say for the same damn reason Leonard rarely got comfortable. Together they are invincible, hell, even two of them could do a world of good. It was that one left behind you had to watch out for, who needed the others the most. Apart, they're mortals whom time and death and fate and a whole host of other anthropromorphized forces have a grudge against and upon whom are ready to take their revenge.  
  
He hugs Jim tight that day. It's pretty much all he remembers about it.  
  
All he remembers about the funeral, the quiet, private funeral Spock somehow wrangled out of Star Fleet, is Spock's hand on his shoulder, steady and reassuring even as Leonard feels the man's mind keening and screaming against the injustice. Leonard lets him keen and scream. Lets his own tears and his own grief wash through him and upon that empty coffin. Lets his anger stifle whatever apologies and sympathies the brass try to give. They don't understand. They can't.  
  
The first day after the incident he remembers fully is probably some days into his and Spock's bereavement leave. They weren't a recognized marriage, human custom didn't allow for triads and vulcan didn't allow 'emotional t'hy'la bonded' spouses, but the fleet had granted it nonetheless. Smart of them. Probably the only reason Leonard would later stick around. He remembers waking up, Spock's arms encircling him protectively (possessively- his mind wearily supplies- you're all he's got, no way is he risking losing you) as the vulcan rarely had in the past. Leonard reaches out, trying to find the little weasel who managed to evade his grasp in the night...only to find nothing. Nothing but a cold bed and Spock's arms tightening around him. He remembers that revelation hitting him like a ton of bricks.  
  
Jim isn't here.  
  
He turns over to face Spock. Can't stand looking at nothing, never could. He places his forehead against Spock's and tenderly strokes the vulcan's ear. Spock's breath catches. They lay there the rest of the day, too tired to move, too dead to try.  
  
The next morning his stomach rumbles and life, such as it is, attempts to march forward. He remembers stumbling around this damn unfamiliar place-because no way are they staying at the apartment, not yet- to find the kitchen. He could replicate whatever it is his stomach wants but doesn't. Instead, he replicates ingredients and cooks the damn thing. Gives him something to do even if he isn't very good at it. He's not the cook in this relationship. Spock enters the kitchen sometime later, pain practically wafting off him once he sees Leonard and not-  
  
Leonard hands him a bowl of old fashioned grits (oh, that's what he was making) and sits himself down at the table. He absently takes a few bites, his gaze almost lost in the spectacular view out the window. Only it isn't because all the life, all the vibrancy, has up and vanished. It's like his whole world has lost that vitality, that spirit, that makes a world, a life, alive. Almost funny, he thinks morbidly. A lot of Spock's death is fuzzy, caused, no doubt, by the fact his human soul was tethering its vulcan piece to this world, but he does remember that things shifted then too. When Spock died, for him, all the shadows, all the depths of the world disappeared. Shadow might be a strange thing to equate to his vulcan for some but he grew up in Georgia where shade and shadow turn a 120 degree day into a tolerable playground, turn a patio into a place where family gathers and everyone is safe and loved and having a good time. Perhaps that was the real reason he'd fled into the man's quarters and kept the lights off.  
  
And dammit! Leonard pounded his fist against the table. It shouldn't be like this! He hadn't entered this relationship to bury both of them! Hell, he isn't even supposed to bury one of them. He is the oldest, the frailest, of them all. He is not supposed to bury the men he loves, they are supposed to bury him. Why couldn't they get with the damn program?  
  
Pain not his own flits into Leonard's brain and he hesitantly shifts his gaze onto its source. Spock doesn't say anything. Doesn't have to. Dammit.  
  
"Sorry," he rasps and means it. Spock inclines his head. Leonard sighs and moves to sit beside the other one left behind. They're breathing each other's air now but that's fine. They're all that's keeping the other alive- for now- and they both know it. They're stuck together and they're alone. Neither asks the question on both their minds, what do we do now, because both know the answer.  
  
Endure. And give 'em hell.They're just not sure who to give it to yet.  
  
-\/-  
  
When, twenty-five years later, a star threatens to destroy the Romulans and the Fleet comes up with a last minute, desperate suicide attempt to stop it, Spock volunteers to pilot the ship. Leonard demands to go with him. Spock gives in without a fight (can't be the last one standing, neither of them). The Fleet has other ideas, calling into question his soundness of mind for wanting to go on a suicide run when there's absolutely no need of him. Leonard doesn't expect them to understand (their spirits aren't slowly bleeding out of their heads because a love died) but he does give them the tongue-lashing of the century. Too bad Jim couldn't be around to see it.  
  
They start the ignition sequence and plot the fastest course to the star. The second they're in warp, Leonard solidly kisses Spock and entwines their fingers, a good-bye, a thank you, a love you all rolled into one. Spock responds with much the same, though he growls at the farewell. If they are to die, he reasons- and Leonard feels him work through it, they will not be parted for long. In fact, they will see Jim once again. Parted and never parted. Leonard moans slightly at the thought, at seeing their missing piece after so much time. Leonard doesn't believe in much but he clings to Spock's firm truth in those next few moments.  
  
Things happen far too quickly: Romulus is destroyed despite their best efforts, a Romulan mining vessel swears revenge upon them (like they could do anything that hadn't already been done), they're all sucked through a black hole, and he and Spock are captured by said vessel in a completely different location than they had been. When all is said and done, they're stranded on an ice ball somewhere near the Vulcan system. Spock rattles off the planet's information (assuming they're in the same universe-black holes could be nasty like that), not that Leonard pays much attention, trying to suck in as much air as possible and adjust to the sub-zero temperatures. He's long past the age where he can handle such radical, rapid changes to his environment easily. When they start walking whichever way Spock deems best, Leonard keeps as close to the vulcan as humanly possible. Spock needs his greater body heat; already Leonard feels the man's heart beat slow down.  
  
Spock collapses after fifteen minutes, Leonard doesn't have to ask why. He feels it himself, a bare echo of what Spock's receiving but enough to send new shivers down his spine and weaken his knees. Guess that madman could do something new, after all. Carefully, he hauls the dazed vulcan to his feet and manages to get them back on track. He grumbles in relief when they stumble across a cave. Leonard sets the Vulcan down deep inside the cave, ordering him to stay awake before he trudges off to see if he can find something to start a fire with. He finds several small plants about fifty feet further in that might work and some loose branches off the strangest trees he's ever seen. Leonard starts the fire, grumbling the whole time a bunch of nonsense mostly designed to keep Spock from going any deeper into shock.  
  
A roar at the cave's mouth has them both springing into action. Old habits and reflexes are hard to break, harder to ignore. Spock gets there first, an ignited branch in his hand as he scares the largest insect-fish-whatever monster out of their sanctuary. Leonard notices the creature's prey first. And damn near has a heart attack on the spot. His mouth's suddenly dry and he can't do anything but stare wide-eyedly like an idiot at the mirror image of his best friend. Not even mirror image, this boy is his friend in the flesh. Spock registers his shock and turns. Leonard thinks he does a better job at hiding everything swirling under their skins.  
  
"James T. Kirk," Spock says with certainty. The boy's got his mouth open and is staring in confusion at the two of them.  
  
"Excuse me?" he manages before locking electric blue eyes (all Leonard can think at that is what the hell) on Leonard, "Bones?" he finishes, squinting in the dim light. The way he says the old nickname, one he hasn't heard in far too long, proves to Leonard this is James Kirk they're dealing with, just not the one they know. Leonard swallows and nods as Spock comes to his side.  
  
"I have been, and ever shall be, your friend," Spock tells the boy, his own 'does this Kirk know me' test and reassurance in one. Leonard almost snorts at the statement but the feeling wrapped in that simple sentence stops him cold. Something akin to comprehension dawns on the boy's face but is ruthlessly surpressed. Now what kind of universe was it when Jim Kirk doubted his own intuition?  
  
"Look," the boy stammers, "thanks for the save but I don't-"  
  
"I am Spock," Spock overrides before Kirk can finish that statement. The kid blinks.  
  
"Bullshit."  
  
Leonard does laugh at that, the spell this boy's created finally broken, and he feels Spock shaking like a leaf beside him. Okay, so it's minute enough the boy wouldn't pick up on it but it's as good as to Leonard.  
  
"C'mon, you two," he orders, grabbing Spock's free arm, "I'm too damn old to be sitting out here freezing my ass off."  
  
They sit quietly beside the fire for a little while. Well, verbally at any rate. Mentally's another matter. As the seconds pass, Leonard becomes more and more aware of something inside him trying to reach out towards the boy, becomes more aware of the way the light plays on him. _Spock?_ he asks, carefully projecting to the vulcan. Spock picks up his question and meaning right away (one of the benefits of being a natural telepath). _It is the bond,_ he responds wearily,  _it is_ _trying to reintegrate him into our minds._ Well. That was alarming. And a problem. He didn't want some Kirk not his poking around in his head. Not to mention... _He's not Jim._ It hurts that something so primal and spirit-specific as a t'hy'la bond can make that kind of mistake. _He could grow into the man we know. Perhaps that potential is enough for the bond to try._ Leonard snorts quietly. Potential did not a person make. Experience, potential, and a whole host of other things did. Near amusement trickles into his mind. _Can you hold it off? Yes, provided you remain unsupportive of rejoining with him. That desire should prevent the bond from permenantly linking him with us._ Well, that wouldn't be hard.  
  
"You can't be Spock," the kid asserts suddenly before shifting his gaze downwards, "if you were, you'd know we aren't friends. You hate me, you marooned me here for mutiny." Leonard's eyebrow raises at the thought. Then he really looks at the kid. He can't be more than twenty-five, twenty-seven at the outside. Sure, Leonard had known Jim when the man was that young but Spock never did. What the hell had happened here?  
  
"Mutiny? You are not the captain?" If Leonard couldn't feel that Spock had a reason for the question's phrasing, he'd strangle the vulcan, freezing and in shock or not. Kirk snorts derisively.  
  
"No, you're the captain," he says almost mockingly, "Pike was captured." He turns his attention on Leonard. "What are you doing with him?"  
  
"He's my ride," Leonard drawls before waving a hand, "It's too complicated to get into now, kid."  
  
"Indeed. We must focus on the more immediate matter: Nero."  
  
"You know him?"  
  
"He's a basket case with access to way too many explosives," Leonard snorts, adding another stick to the fire. The kid's amused by the sentence. Spock stands and crosses the distance between him and Kirk and all the alarm bells from decades of living with him and Jim clang, especially when Spock stretches out his hand and mutters, "Please, allow me." Leonard stands as the kid flinches back.  
  
"Are you outta your vulcan mind?" he practically yells, " _Melding_ with him? You're more senile than I am!" Kirk's eyes widen as Spock merely turns.  
  
"He must know what it is we face." Leonard rolls his eyes.  
  
"So talk to him like a normal person. You really think after listening to several billion people die you'll be able to just meld willy-nilly and everything will be okay? He doesn't need o-your baggage running through his head." Kirk gasps at that, fixing his gaze on Spock like he's seeing something he never thought existed.  
  
"We do not have time," Spock counters, "every second must be utilized fully. The longer we take to explain the situation, the further the Enterprise travels from here."  
  
Damn him for having a point. The Enterprise is going to need the kid if he's even half the man Leonard remembers.  
  
"Mind cluing me in here?" Kirk says and Spock replies, "It is, among other things, a telepathic form of communication used to impart great amounts of knowledge in mere seconds." Leonard rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything. The look that crosses the boy's face tells him all he needs to know. Somehow, through vast universal differences and temporal schisms, this kid trusts them. Inheirently knows if not comprehends the danger of Spock's request but trusts him enough to take the risk anyway.  
  
The meld only lasts a few seconds. Leonard doesn't get the full brunt of what's passing between them but gets enough. And winces. Spock has more control than he thought but it's still not enough. The kid's receiving all the vulcan's guilt, weariness, and sorrow but most importantly and problematically he's receiving Spock's overwhelming grief and love. Grief at the loss of the boy's counterpart and at feeling someone so like their Jim inside his mind, love for Jim and this kid for trusting him so and letting him brush against such a familiar mind one last time. In a way, Leonard thinks as they both come out of it and the kid struggles to absorb all of that and breathe at the same time, it's Spock's final good-bye, the good-bye neither man gave. The kid says something about feeling and Leonard sympathizes quietly. He remembers the shock of that realization himself. Then he mentions that they changed everyone's lives and there's something almost dead about the way he says it.  
  
Kirk glances at Leonard and Leonard nods once. Spock mentions they have to move, get to a base as fast as possible, and they start bundling back up. Leonard takes Kirk aside a moment.  
  
"Don't give up," he tells the boy before ruffling his much too blond hair. Kirk stares at him in something akin to thanks.  
  
-\/-  
  
The second Kirk and Scott vanish on the transporter pad, Leonard chuckles. And doesn't stop for a good five minutes. Spock watches him indulgently, and by indugently he means staring at him like he's an idiot or he's finally cracked. But Leonard can't help it. It's damn funny how Spock begged off going with Kirk. Vulcans don't lie, his ass. Didn't need to when they could bullshit with the best of them. Guess all those times watching Jim had an impact after all. Leonard hadn't even needed to say a word, strangely enough. He takes a large gulp of air and straightens, a smirk on his face.  
  
"Nice story, Spock," he teases, an eyebrow raised, "Almost put Jim to shame." Spock feeds him a look as he recalibrates the transporter.  
  
"It had to be done, Doctor," he says simply. Leonard rolls his eyes.  
  
"You're willing to put the future of this universe at risk just to play matchmaker? Sounds like you're getting sentimental to me," he replies, ignoring Keenser's scrutiny. Spock holds Leonard's gaze piercingly.  
  
"There is no risk," he says simply. Leonard can't help but smile.  
  
"True," he conceeds.  
  
-\/-  
  
It's almost two years after that fateful transitioning into another universe and luckily, to some, it didn't end. Leonard and Spock settled down in a small, little known but tolerant vulcan colony. They want to stay as out of the way as possible, though that's almost impossible with the kids, as they've both taken to calling the young 'golden trio'- nice to know someone else gets to suffer under that moniker, calling almost every other week. Leonard practices medicine here, one of the few outworlders with full access thanks to his status as a bondmate, while Spock does pretty much anything the colony requires. It's a mostly quiet life, the kind they've never known and for the first time in a long while, they're both content.  
  
Well, until the kids demand they commandeer a shuttle and meet the Enterprise in god only knows where. They don't give any reasons, save that it's urgent they get there as fast as possible. Leonard grumbles, muttering about he'll kill them if the universe doesn't shatter upon their arrival, while Spock tries to reason out what they could possibly want. Leonard tells him to give it up, reason means very little when dealing with those three.  
  
As the ship comes into view, Leonard feels his part of the bond stretching out, searching, feels Spock's do the same. He's almost used to it, every time they're near any of those three, the bond thinks they're them and tries to tie everyone together. It can't, thank god, and it's gotten better now that he expects it but it still hurts just a bit to think about. So he ignores it.  
  
They exit the shuttle and are greeted by Kirk and McCoy, the former of whom is wearing a shit-eating grin and the latter looks a particularly proud cat who caught the canary. Knowing them intimately, their expressions set Leonard on guard. If this is just some sort of surprise birthday, blood will run through the halls. The two officers greet them cordially and usher them deeper into the ship, foiling all attempts at wrangling an explanation out of them with a simple 'trust us, you're going to love it.' Now Leonard is really on edge and yet amused at the same time at their enthusiasm and certainty. Doesn't mean he won't kill them later if this is a waste of time. Spock's looking at him in concealed amusement as they exit a turbolift and enter a conference room.  
  
And promptly stop in their tracks.  
  
Standing next to kid Spock is an achingly familiar figure and suddenly the room's too bright and too alive and Leonard can't breathe over the lump in his throat. Bright hazel eyes take them in, widening in shock and barely disguised guilt and near horror. And that's the look that snaps Leonard out of his stupor, makes him put one foot in front of the other as his mind calls out and _is answered_. For the first time in thirty odd years, he's answered and he knows deep in his gut this is real, can't be a dream. He is answered and stumbles towards Jim, falling into a tight, hard, tender hug with the man.  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Jim's babbling softly, his hand behind Leonard's head, and there's tears, they're all crying now, and Spock is holding them both as though this dream might shatter any second.  
  
"Shh, it's all right, it's all right," Leonard whispers in return because it is all right now, one arm firmly around Jim's shoulders and the other latching onto Spock's. After a long moment, Jim's eyes meet his and he chuckles softly, sniffling. He doesn't wipe the tears though.  
  
"Aren't I the one who's supposed to be offering comfort?" he jokes softly and Leonard laughs once, squeezing. Then, keeping his hands upon his men, he ducks around so that now Jim and Spock can have their together moment. Spock and Jim trade looks as they embrace and Spock slowly strokes Jim's face with all the gentleness in the world. Jim's somehow got his hand slowly tracing the vulcan's pointed ear as Leonard holds them both as best he can, his fingers lightly entwining with Spock's free hand. Through it all, their minds reweave together, anchoring Jim's bright, beautiful soul once again within them as they return the pieces he once held of them back to him. How long they stand there none of them ever can tell. But when they finally come back to reality, there's a peace Leonard hadn't known in so long he almost wished he'd dreamed it.  
  
They endured. Thank god.

  



End file.
